Finding the Sun

A Spring day in another 
Quad, all these years 
later, a new poetry book, 
a text to you and the 
sun warm on my neck.

People pass as the
bright breeze stirs my hair
and down the path
past the railing
I hear the cars roar
and wish they were not there.

My hands are full of 
light, and light water 
sparkles, my heart is 
fiery and possessed, I am 
consumed with wishes, 
audacity, the stressed
seamed life I've loved and 
lost, the new one won 
and all the miles from the 

St Andrews clock tower 
to the bells of this one
have heralded my
unseen way, where I
lived far and long
in darkness and have
risen
to find the sun today.

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